


One Night in New York

by Yobotica



Series: Flashback [1]
Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Community: asscreedkinkmeme, Kink Meme, M/M, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-08
Updated: 2014-08-10
Packaged: 2018-02-12 07:46:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2101410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yobotica/pseuds/Yobotica
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the following prompt on the kinkmeme: </p>
<p>That awkward moment when your partner in crime drags in the final puzzle piece you need to save the world...</p>
<p>... and he happens to be the bartender you shagged silly that one night when you were in New York for a mission.</p>
<p>Shaun and Des working their way around this fact that they have, uh, <i>met</i> before.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This series is already complete, I'm just posting it chapter by chapter for cleanup and editing purposes.
> 
> Original title is original, but took the series name from the prompt itself.

Shaun sighed and shifted his balance on the ladder when he realized the room was quieter than it should be and glanced around. He and Rebecca were setting up their new hideout only days before their teammates would join them. Or rather, _he_ was setting things up, running cables to their monitor station and Rebecca was... well, she was _supposed_ to be setting up Lucy's work desk (she'd set up the animus first, naturally) but instead she was sitting at her own computer, reading something that was most definitely not the results of animus tests, as he knew those weren't even finished yet.

"Shaun, do you remember New York?," she asked, and Shaun sighed down at her from his perch on top of the ladder. 

"Really? Do I remember New York? That is a question that needs an answer right now?," he asked, dropping his arms to shake them out. The cables didn't fall, so he was just going to assume the fasteners were soundly installed. 

"Yeah, you remember that last night?," she continued, but he knew what that sly tone _actually_ meant.

"I know what you're really asking. You mean, do I remember the bartender? The man you practically threw me at because 'A) you might get free drinks, and B) he was the hottest man I'd ever manage to bang so I should definitely try to tap that'?," he asked, eyes narrowed. 

"Yeah, that's what I meant!," she agreed, without a trace of shame. "It worked, didn't it? We drank free that night and he _is_ the hottest guy you've ever slept with." 

Shaun didn't bother hiding his scowl. "And you bring this up because? We're supposed to have this hideout ready by tomorrow, and _you,_ " he growled, then paused, because Shaun knew how to connect facts, and the main fact was that Rebecca wouldn't ask without a reason - and if she had a reason, it was connected to the computer she was currently sitting at, the _only_ computer currently connected to the network, which meant... "Oh god, Rebecca, you're not saying...," he trailed off, because he couldn't say it. It was _too ridiculous to say._

"I am!," she crowed gleefully. "You managed to bang the boss' son without even knowing it, _and_ he's going to be here in less than two days!" 

Shaun felt the blood drain from his face, but couldn't exactly decide what the appropriate reaction would be. He knew Bill had been looking for his son, and somehow, _somehow,_ Shaun had managed to hook up with him in a city of millions of people on a random night, all without knowing? The odds of that were astronomically stacked against such a coincidence. That bartender certainly hadn't given the name 'Desmond', but he didn't think Bill would appreciate that distinction. "You're joking. There's no way, Rebecca, no way," he murmured, scurrying down the ladder and moving to her side at the computer to peer over her shoulder at the files provided about their new project - or more specifically, the person at the center of said project.

He ignored the text of the dossier to peer at the photo of Desmond, and nodded. "No, yeah, that's...definitely him," he said faintly, and Rebecca just threw her head back and laughed. 

"Oh, I know," she said. "Think he remembers you?," she asked, cocking her head. "I mean, it was over a year ago now, maybe closer to two..," she trailed off.

Shaun shook his head. "It doesn't matter, does it? Unless he refuses to work with me - and I really, _really_ wouldn't want to have to explain that to Bill," he said, "So, I hope not." 

Rebecca gave him an appraising glance. "Do you just have no confidence in your skills or are you just that bad in bed?," she asked, and Shaun growled at her. 

"I'm not going to dignify either of those with an answer," he said as primly as he could manage. He'd been a little tipsy, but hadn't been incapacitated, and his memories of the night in question were pretty clear. Neither of them had been bad in bed, not _at all_ , and when Shaun snuck out of his own hotel room early the next morning, it had actually been with a little regret. He hadn't even left a note, of course, just slipped out with Mike - or rather, Desmond, really - still asleep. "Anyways, we'll see what he says - if he doesn't bring it up, maybe he doesn't remember, and _no one_ will say anything about it," he stressed, glaring at her.

Rebecca shrugged. "Sure, if he doesn't bring it up, I certainly won't," she said, but she was still smiling. Shaun knew her better than to think she wouldn't push it just a little bit.

"Good. Now, why don't you finish setting up Lucy's station, instead of being a nosy gossip?" They still had a lot of work to do, after all.

========

The warehouse was set up on time, but only because Shaun was quite experienced at nagging Rebecca into actually getting work done. They'd been working together a long time, and despite appearances to the contrary, they worked well together; they were actually friends, though they both knew it sometimes seemed otherwise. Shaun was nervous about the new arrivals, and Rebecca snapped at him more than once to stop fidgeting and pacing. _Whatever happens will happen,_ she said, like that was actually any help at all.

By the time Lucy pulled into the warehouse, Shaun had mostly pulled himself together. He'd reviewed the Abstergo footage - or some of it, at least - and there was absolutely no doubt that Desmond was the same bartender he'd slept with that night. Same face, same voice, same body... only the name was different, and it wasn't like Shaun couldn't piece out why. He hadn't exactly given his own name, after all. 

Soon enough Desmond followed Lucy in, watched the girls' affectionate reunion, and his eyes slid over Shaun quickly, without any sign of recognition whatsoever. That was a little disheartening, actually, because Shaun was certain he didn't look that different at all. Desmond himself looked much the same - that is to say: fit, a little rough, and a lot delicious.

"So, this must be the infamous Subject 17. Desmond Miles, was it?," Shaun asked as he stepped forward, keeping as much snark out of his tone as he could manage. It had been a long time ago, after all, and mabye Desmond had had some drinks, too. So if he didn't remember it, Shaun definitely wasn't going to remind him. He'd say nothing. 

Desmond glanced around at the girls, then sent a puzzled glance to Shaun. "Who are you?," he asked, and yep, that sealed it. There was no sly tone, no knowing expression, nothing at all, and you know what? That kind of stung a little. Maybe Desmond did that sort of thing all the time, and Shaun really hadn't been memorable for him at all. 

But Shaun was a professional, and he could certainly act like one, so he rushed through introductions, added something about getting to work and time being precious and then fled to his work station. No time like the present to get started, after all.

========

Thing is, Desmond didn't exactly leave him alone. Whenever he wasn't in the animus, he was always pestering Shaun, asking him questions about what he was doing, how'd he become an assassin, what had he done before, what were his interests. Basically, it felt like he was always around, always hovering. Maybe that was just the confined space, because Desmond definitely did hang out with Lucy and/or Rebecca, but they were always in the same big room, and he could hear Desmond whenever he spoke to either of the girls.

But despite the constant bothering, Desmond never eyed him with recognition. Never gave him a sly look or a smirk or a hint that he remembered anything about their shared night together at all, and it was _maddening_ , because it was suddenly all Shaun could think about. Rebecca wasn't helping, either - she never brought it up when Desmond was around (or conscious), but she'd said enough that even Lucy had started giving him questioning looks. Looks that Shaun refused to meet, if he could, and studiously ignored if he couldn't. 

It certainly didn't help that Desmond proved to be exactly Shaun's type outside of bed, as well. Sarcastic and quick with his remarks with a willingness to listen to Shaun's rants on just about anything? Yes, _please_. If there weren't so many reasons for him to keep his distance, Shaun would be all up on that in a heartbeat. But there _were_ many reasons for him to keep his distance, and the worst part of it all was, Rebecca knew that, too. But she encouraged him anyways. In fact, she would _not shut up about it._

So, Shaun thought about him. Them. That night. He thought about all of those things _a lot._ He especially thought about that night when he was alone in his room, and all of those reasons seemed so meaningless when the man in question was just down the hall, just as alone, and maybe, _maybe_...

But Desmond didn't remember him, didn't remember that night, and that was the biggest reason Shaun wasn't going to make that trip down the hall and find out if Desmond _maybe_ anything.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the actual porn part of the story.

It was Shaun's watch that night, but Shaun was often up late working, so he'd have been up this late anyway. It sort of came with the territory, providing support for teams all over the world. Time zones waited for no man, and all that.

Shaun stretched and stepped away from the computer for a moment, then moved towards the kitchen with his long-empty cup. He refilled the kettle and flicked it on, and leaned on the counter as he scrolled through the latest notifications on his phone. It was a quiet night, which wasn't that unusual, though he expected a disturbance at some point since Desmond's sleep was getting irregular; often interrupted, sometimes loudly so.

Someone cleared their throat from the doorway and Shaun glanced up to see Desmond, frowning at him thoughtfully. He was wearing only a loose white t-shirt and the soft sleep pants Rebecca had purchsed for him before he'd arrived. Shaun glanced at the kettle, but the water wasn't boiling just yet, and Shaun realized he had no idea how long Desmond had been there. There was the possibility that it _wasn't_ Desmond who was looking at him like that, and he slid his phone into his pocket immediately.

"Did you need something?," he asked, careful not to call Desmond by name - if he was experiencing a bleed, something like that could have unknowable consequences.

Desmond cleared his throat and shook his head, slightly, eyes becoming a little more focused. "Couldn't sleep," he said, and nodded at the kettle. "Tea?"

"Yeah. You ah, want a cup?," he asked. It was hard not to fidget without his phone in his hands, so he reached for a cup before Desmond answered. 

"Sure," Desmond murmured, finally stepping into the kitchen. He looked nervous, or maybe just unsettled, and he stopped at their little table, hands resting along the edge. "So, um, can I ask you a question?," he mumbled, sounding more unsure than Shaun had ever heard him before.

"I can't promise an answer," Shaun replied, because there were some things he was absolutely not allowed to discuss with Desmond, and there were some he simply didn't want to, but barring those subjects, he'd probably answer honestly.

"Have you... have you ever been in New York?," Desmond asked, and Shaun turned to look at him so sharply that the answer was obvious without him having to speak. Desmond nodded. "Yeah, I thought so. Like, more than a year ago, wasn't it? In June?," he pressed, and Shaun just sort of stared, because he hadn't expected this at all. He'd thought Desmond had _forgotten,_ had tried to forget it himself.

"I, uh, yeah, a... there was a.. a mission," he stuttered, but Desmond just kept nodding, gaze sharp and body tense.

"Yeah, only you said your name was _David,_ " Desmond bit out, and he actually sounded angry, which was baffling.

"Well, since you told me you were Mike, I don't think you actually get to be angry about that. Oddly enough, I think we both lied for the same reasons. Sort of," he said, with a shrug. "So what do you want?"

"What do I want?," Desmond asked, as if the question made no sense. "What do I _want?_ Shaun, why didn't you say anything?"

"What does it matter? _You_ didn't say anything! Hell, I thought you'd forgotten, I mean, don't you... you know?," he asked, making some sort of nebulous gesture at Desmond's person that apparently infuriated the man.

"Don't I _what,_ Shaun?," Desmond demanded, releasing the table to stalk around to Shaun. He stopped only a few feet away.

"Don't you do that sort of thing often? I mean, you went along so quickly, I just assumed...," he trailed off, but he faltered, because Desmond was only getting angrier.

"You _assumed?_ What, you think I'm some sort of slut?," he all but shouted, and Shaun held his hands up, because as awful as this was, he absolutely did not want to have witnesses. Desmond apparently agreed, however, because his next words came out in a harsh whisper. "You think what, that I slept with a new person every night? Fuck you, Shaun!"

Shaun almost laughed, inappropriate as it was, because his brain immediately supplied the response of _you already have._ "Look, how was I to know? I mean, I don't know, it's New York, and you're, y'know," he gestured again, because Desmond had to know he was hot and Shaun didn't want to have to say it, "And it was... I mean...," he trailed off, because telling Desmond that it had been _easy_ seemed like a bad move.

Desmond, however, had no intentions of letting Shaun off the hook. "It was what?," he demanded, and Shaun sighed. 

"It was easy, okay?," he asked, and yeah, that sounded a lot worse when he said it out loud, and it had already sounded bad in his head. Desmond looked like he was ready to shift to a whole new level of offended, so Shaun moved quickly to explain. "I don't mean it like that, I just mean, you know, it's usually not. For me. To have someone so... interested," he explained, and Shaun could feel the tips of his ears heating up, knew the rest of his face would soon follow. 

Desmond just stared at him for a long time, long after Shaun had broke the gaze because he already felt awful about his assumption now, despite the fact that it had seemed to make the most sense only a few moments before. Desmond relaxed after a moment, though, and laughed quietly. "Yeah, I can see why you'd think that," he said. Shaun wanted to bristle, to defend himself, but that didn't feel quite right here.

"Look, I... y'know, I'm sorry. It was... I don't usually do that sort of thing, and it was mostly Rebecca's idea, and I'm still shocked that it worked." He glanced up at Desmond; most of the anger seemed to have drained from him. "Why... why didn't _you_ say anything? Before?," he asked, and Desmond sighed.

"You were a little... well, you weren't as sober as I knew you should have been. I felt like maybe I took advantage, and if you didn't remember it, I wasn't going to call you out in front of the girls," he said, and Shaun frowned. Suddenly, Desmond's anger made sense, because Shaun hadn't been one hundred percent sober, sure, but he hadn't been incapacitated. 

"You didn't take advantage," he murmured. "Desmond, even if I'd never have gone for it on my own, I.. I definitely wanted to." Shaun flushed even further, and he wasn't going to remind Desmond of how eager he'd been once they were in his hotel room. It wasn't that he was embarrassed or regretful, just that he'd been _really_ enthusiastic, and okay, maybe that was a little embarrassing now. He'd been tipsy enough to be shameless with a total stranger, and he'd really, _really_ liked it.

But Desmond smiled, slow and sincere. "Really? Why wouldn't you have? Gone for it, I mean. I was certain I'd been pretty obvious all night," he murmured, stepping closer, and Shaun swallowed.

"What?," he croaked, because this sudden turn made no sense to him. He couldn't parse Desmond's sly grin, his inviting expression.

"The drinks, the come-ons, the attention I made sure to pay you. Obvious. If you'd been paying attention, that is," he said, and Shaun frowned again, because maybe, yeah, okay, looking back he could kind of see it, but at the time, he'd laughed when Rebecca had said the same thing that very night. 

"You...so you _do..._ ," he trailed off, because he couldn't finish that sentence. Desmond clearly remembered everything, after all, but the other option, to suggest that he was still interested seemed presumptuous, despite current evidence to the contrary.

"Yes, Shaun, I _do,_ " Desmond replied, stepping closer. "So, I guess I have an offer of my own. We could _do_ again, probably more than once, if you're still interested." Shaun made a choked sort of noise, because Desmond was practically flush against him at this point, and yes, Shaun was still interested. _Definitely_ still interested. "Or, we can keep pretending it didn't happen. You didn't come to New York, I didn't buy your drinks, we didn't go to your hotel room," he whispered, voice dropping as he leaned closer, lips all but brushing Shaun's ear, "You didn't suck me off against the door and I didn't fuck you through your mattress," he breathed, and Shaun actually whimpered at that, shuddering slightly as every ounce of blood in his body rushed south. Desmond pulled back quickly, all that lean warmth suddenly gone, and he smiled like he hadn't just sent Shaun's pulse skyrocketing with only a few words and the press of his body. "Didn't happen," Desmond said, spreading his arms. "But I'm just saying, if you want it to, you know where to find me." Desmond grinned then, all confident invitation, and sauntered out of the kitchen, towards the room that held his bed. Which... was the animus room, and that meant if they _did_ do this, there'd be no hiding it. No forgetting or pretending.

Shaun didn't even hesitate.

========

Shaun caught up to Desmond before the man had made it halfway to his bed in the big room. "Wait," he said, and Desmond stopped and turned to him with one eyebrow raised. Shaun stopped a few feet from him and just stared at him a moment. "I don't," he began, then shook his head. "I don't want to pretend it didn't happen," he said firmly. Desmond stepped closer to him, the beginnings of a smile tugging at his lips and Shaun flushed a little, because he might fixated on them a bit, back then and now. "I want," he said, and stopped there, because it said everything, didn't it? "I want," he repeated and the smile appeared fully on Desmond's face at that.

"You do, hmmm?," Desmond asked, placing his hands on Shaun's hips and waiting. He didn't pull Shaun closer, like Shaun had expected. "What exactly do you want?," he murmured. "I like it best when you tell me," Desmond admitted with a wicked grin, and Shaun sucked in a breath because he definitely remembered that. He'd remembered that _a lot_ lately.

"I want your mouth," Shaun replied, a little shakier than he meant. "I want you on your knees," he added, just in case Desmond hadn't gotten the picture. Desmond's eyes widened, like maybe he was surprised Shaun went with it, but he shivered slightly, too, hands gripping Shaun's hips a little tighter. 

"Yeah, I can do that," Desmond breathed, pupils wide and dark - honestly, he looked a little dazed. "One thing," he murmured, grinning, and Shaun laughed because he knew what came next. Desmond pulled him close and leaned in and kissed him. It was different from before, a little slower at first, a little sweeter, but before long it was just as hungry, just as needy. Shaun's hands were in Desmond's hair, on his shoulders, restless and eager to touch as much as he could. He pulled away, though, because he did need to breathe, and he was worked up, and he really wanted Desmond to follow through on that promise he'd made. So he smirked and moved towards Desmond's bed, where he sat on the edge and spread his legs and leaned back with one brow raised.

Desmond only grinned. "Yeah," he said, though Shaun hadn't said anything. He placed his hands on Shaun's thighs as he sank to his knees and nuzzled at the prominent bulge in Shaun's trousers. Shaun choked back a noise, because he hadn't expected that. Desmond closed his eyes and mouthed at Shaun's dick through the fabric of his slacks. It was the most wanton thing Shaun had ever seen, and he couldn't help but shudder. One of his hands moved to Desmond's head, using the barest amount of pressure to pull him closer. Desmond only moaned softly, laved his tongue over the material as if he simply couldn't wait to taste.

"C'mon, Desmond, pull me out," he breathed, and Desmond did, pulled back enough to unzip Shaun's trousers and ease his cock out of his pants with gentle, reverent movements. Shaun let out a content sigh, watched avidly as Desmond leaned in and mouthed at his cock directly. Shaun had expected licks at first, but no, Desmond just used his lips, dragging them up and down the hot flesh of Shaun's dick like it was doing things for him. It certainly did things for Shaun, precome beading at the tip of his prick and dripping down when there was enough, only for Desmond to catch it with his mouth and smear it along the shaft until he was slick and shiny and _mad_ with desire. "That's good, Desmond, so good. Go on, now, use your mouth proper. Take me in," he ordered, and Desmond shivered, one hand dropped to his lap as he followed Shaun's direction. 

Desmond opened his mouth and lowered it over Shaun's prick, tongue sliding over him eagerly, like he'd just been waiting for permission to taste like this. Shaun's hand was still on Desmond's head, and he urged Desmond to take more, more, until Desmond's lips were at the base - he'd taken all of Shaun without the slightest complaint, those generous lips stretched well about the base of his shaft and Shaun just held him there for a moment. Desmond closed his eyes and breathed through his nose, and his shoulder moved slowly, massaging himself through his jeans. 

Shaun shuddered. "So good, Desmond," he murmured, then _remembered._ "Such a good boy," he said again, and that earned him a shudder from Desmond, a soft moan that vibrated against the prick in his mouth, and Shaun gasped and urged Desmond back. "Not gonna last long," he panted, feeling suddenly out of breath. "Go on, make me come. Use only your mouth," he breathed, shifting his hips forward and his legs further apart to give Desmond a bit more room. "Keep touching yourself, but through your jeans," he urged, as Desmond bobbed his head, slurped and swallowed around his prick like he needed it to live.

"I want you to come like that, in your pants," he breathed. "Want you to feel as crazy as I did, fuck, Desmond," he gasped, hand still on Desmond's head, gripping his hair tighter. "God, I'm gonna come in your mouth, make you swallow all of it. Now!," he gasped again. He moved his hips, and Desmond was moaning helplessly, sucking and slurping as best he could - he was a mess of drool and precome, but he didn't even hesitate at all. Shaun thrust into that mouth as he came, held Desmond down for the first few spurts, but eased him back after, finished on Desmond's lips and chin. He was panting like he'd run a marathon, still shuddering with the aftershocks of such a powerful orgasm, and Desmond just laid his head on Shaun's thigh - just as out of breath, a wet stain starting to spread on his jeans.

"Christ," Shaun breathed, because that was so much like their last night together had been - only their positions had been reversed - and it was just as hot from this end, really. He ran his fingers through Desmond's hair idly until he'd caught his breath, and glanced down only to find Desmond looking up at him, smiling softly with half-lidded eyes.

"I did," he breathed, and _god,_ he sounded so rough, and Shaun had done that, he'd caused that. The thought made Shaun shudder a little, lick his lips. "You make me feel crazy," Desmond clarified, and Shaun huffed out a laugh. 

"I can see that. Jesus, that was... intense," he murmured. "I didn't think you'd actually...," he gestured at Desmond's groin, and Desmond shrugged, but the smile didn't leave his face.

"Yeah, well. You told me to," he murmured, and that smile turned into a smirk. "And just like I said: I like it best when you tell me."

Shaun let out a soft groan. "You're a menace," he breathed, but he knew he was smiling. His hand moved from Desmond's hair to his face, brushing over his cheekbones to his slightly swollen lips. Desmond closed his eyes and Shaun sort of smeared the come on his face towards his mouth, and Desmond licked his fingers clean, humming softly at each swipe of his tongue. "Christ, what you do to me," Shaun murmured, and Desmond smirked up at him, eyes open again and full of mirth.

"We kind of switched places," he said, shifting to give the bed a significant look, raising one eyebrow at Shaun. Shaun had noticed, of course he had, and he'd love nothing more than to finish that previous night's events like this, but he shook his head.

"We did, but... I don't have supplies, Desmond. I didn't... I didn't think you remembered, and I certainly didn't plan on this. I'll do the next supply run," he said. "Normally, that would be a week or so away, unless you can think of a compelling reason to convince the girls to let me go sooner," he added, and Desmond grinned.

"They're not cruel, you know. We could just tell them," he said, finally pushing himself to his feet. He stripped off his shirt and sat beside Shaun on the bed to pull off his shoes and then his socks. Shaun took the opportunity to tuck himself away, though he was far from presentable. "I don't... Shaun, look, I don't know where all this is going, but I don't... I don't want it to be a secret, I don't wanna have to hide it and snatch moments only when we can, alright? I want more than that, and I know we haven't exactly known each other long, it's just..," he sighed, shaking his head and for a moment he just looked so defeated. 

Shaun reached out, hand touching Desmond's shoulder, and he was surprised when Desmond leaned into the touch. "Yeah, I get it," he said. "I... truth be told, I'd be terrible at hiding it, and Rebecca knows anyways. I'm certain Lucy suspects something, so I'm saying we don't. Have to hide it, I mean," he offered, face more than a little warm. "I followed you in here knowing that it... it wasn't just one time, if you didn't want it to be."

Desmond turned to look at him, expression so full of hope it almost hurt to look at him. Shaun didn't look away, and he was glad he didn't, because Desmond gave him this almost bashful smile, like nothing Shaun had ever seen on him before. "Yeah, I don't want it to be. Stay here tonight," he offered, and Shaun nodded. He had his own room, but they had cameras all over this room to track Desmond in case of bleeds - it would be irresponsible to ignore that risk, to not take that precaution. 

"Oh, I'd planned on it," Shaun replied, as arrogantly as possible, but Desmond only grinned at him before sliding his hand behind Shaun's neck and pulling him in for a kiss. Shaun didn't even hesitate, groaned softly at the taste of himself on Desmond's lips, in his mouth. But he pulled back before it got too heated. "I'd planned on _sleeping,_ Desmond," he chided, or tried to, but he was a little out of breath, and the effect might have been ruined. "Now, I'm going to get changed. You should clean up and do the same," he murmured, and stood. Desmond grinned, and sauntered over to his little bathroom and Shaun followed his own orders and brushed his teeth and changed into his sleep pants and loose t-shirt before wandering back into the main room, checking his phone for anything he needed to respond to immediately. There wasn't anything urgent, so he set his alarm (and his backup) and double-checked his notification settings.

By the time he was back by Desmond's bed, the man in question was laid out and watching Shaun curiously. Shaun laid his phone on the bed by the pillow, and slid between the sheets easily enough, though it took a few minutes for the both of them to shift until they were comfortable, in almost the same position they'd slept in last time - Desmond curled against Shaun's back, one arm thrown over his side, hand brushing over his stomach, slowly. It took less time than usual for Shaun to relax, for his mind to slow down and ease him into sleep. He was almost there when he heard Desmond's soft chuckle.

"You know, I still don't have your number," he murmured, and Shaun couldn't help the startled laugh that escaped him.

"Desmond, you don't even have a phone, shut up. Go to sleep," he ordered, and Desmond huffed at him in return, but he settled a bit further, breaths evening out only moments later. Shaun wasn't far behind.

========

In the morning, it wasn't even Shaun's alarm that woke them, it was Rebecca's yelling - Shaun hadn't turned off the kettle the night before, and it had burned itself out over the night and wouldn't turn on.

Of course, when she found him in the animus room instead of his own room, there was more yelling, but it was more of the 'congratulations' and 'I told you so' kind.

Shaun was still 'forced' to make a supply run later that morning. 

No one objected when he said he needed Desmond along to help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short and sweet, that's what I was going for. Part 2 of this series is actually going to be a prequel of sorts, since I couldn't resist actually writing the night in question. It should be up in a couple of days.


End file.
